Next came the Montagnes Russes.  How I love a switchback, Mamma!  If I were the Queen I would have a private one for myself, and my particular friends, round Windsor Castle; I could go on all day.  The Marquis and the Vicomte kept so close to me that Jean could not take the seat beside me, as I saw he intended to, and then the other two made quite a shuffle, but the Vicomte won.  The person who sits next you is obliged to hold your arm to prevent your tumbling out.  I looked round to see, and every one was having her arm held, but I don’t believe the Vicomte need have gripped mine quite so tight as he did.  We had three turns; next time the Marquis was beside me, and he was more violent than the Vicomte.  So when it came to the last, and Jean scrambled in, and began to hold tighter than either of the others, I just said my arm would be black and blue, and I would rather chance the danger of falling out, in a seat by myself, than put up with it.  That made him sit up quite straight.  I can’t see why people want to pinch one; can you, Mamma?  I call it vulgar, and I am sure no Englishman would do it.  It seems that Frenchmen are awfully respectful, and full of ceremony and politeness, and then every now and then—­directly they get the opportunity—­they do these horrid little tricks.

The next entertainment was really very curious.  It was a marble woman down to her waist, and as you looked, the marble turned into flesh, her eyes opened, and she spoke; then her colour faded, and she turned into marble again, and was handed round the audience; wasn’t it wonderful, Mamma?  I can’t think how it was done, and as “Antoine” and Jean did not go behind the curtain to examine the machinery, I suppose we shall never know.

[Sidenote:  The Fun of the Fair]

After that there were endless shows—­performing dogs, fortune-telling, circuses, etc.—­but the nicest of all was another merry-go-round, with seats which went up and down like a boat in a very rough sea.  Hardly one of them would venture, but I made the Vicomte come with me for two turns; he looked so pale at the end of it, and when I wanted to go a third time, he said we must be getting on, and no one else offered to come.  Wasn’t it stupid of them, as it was by far the most exciting part of the Foire?  It was half-past twelve before we got back to the “Toison d’Or,” and there had supper, with “Punch a l’Americaine.”  It is good, and you do feel so gay after it.  One of the ladies with the pearls, who was also supping, was so friendly to the man next her; Pezon was of their party, and he did look common in clothes, while he was quite handsome in spangled tights.

We were obliged to go slowly in the motor car returning, there were such heaps of people and carts and things on the road, but we got back to Croixmare about two; and I have slept so late this morning, so now, good-bye, dear Mamma.—­Your affectionate daughter, Elizabeth.